


Space Booty

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Priests, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Space, Deus Ex Machina, Hybrids, IN SPACE!, M/M, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Space Pirates, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Space Pirate Captain Kyungsoo sabotages slave ships for kicks. And for money. (Mostly for money.) But he's not a total monster; he helps transport the captives on board to better destinations, for a small fee. This new refugee though, might not be worth the insane amount of money he's promising.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be advised: The idioms and slang used by the characters here have been converted to Earth American English, circa early twenty-first century for ease of reading, courtesy of the ∆sstronaughty. The translator would like to thank β-A for her services, which were invaluable and treasured, every word, every step. The translator would also like to thank L, the β′, the translator's α and ω.

They’re no heroes. Let’s get that out of the way, first off. The vaguest resemblance to Robin Hood in their story is the robbing from the rich hook, but that's as far as it goes. Lately, there hasn’t been a lot of opportunities for robbery, but they’ve been doing pretty well on sabotaging slave ships once they’ve discovered that those ships all follow similar, predictable patterns and are easy to track. It’s still technically robbery, but when you’re stealing from degenerate thieves, is it _really_ though?

The people manning slave ships are not wealthy. The rich leave the messy business of illegal procurement to the desperate and depraved poor who are willing to turn on their fellow man. And of course, when their cargo gets taken, these respectable businessmen and politicians simply wash their hands of it, disavowing all knowledge and responsibility. No ransom, no hostages. Nothing personal, fellas.

But there is _some_ money in selling the ship scraps to be cannibalized. And the occasional black market trade if they can find a good fence willing to take the risk. Returning the captives to their home planets can be fruitful too. Or dropping them off on more economically stable planets for gainful employment. Not _that_ much money, but in this economy, they’ll have to take what they can get. Plus, there’s always the bonus of claiming the moral high ground, whatever that goes for at fair market value these days.

His finger steady on the trigger, Kyungsoo holds the still smoking gun up next to his head as he rests a foot on the lifeless body. “Anyone else?” he asks, broadcasting his voice across the room. His large, furry ears twitch, tilting this way and that, waiting for a response. It’d be comical looking if he didn’t just blast the big guy’s brains out.

What’s left of the crew huddles in clusters, watching as the red pool spreads underneath the corpse of their former captain. The blinking warning lights around them only emphasize the blood, making it almost glow.

“No takers?” Kyungsoo repeats, rocking back onto his heels and pacing in a slow circle, his bushy tail swishing behind him. “Well, here’s the deal: Your ship’s life support system was damaged. What’s left of the breathable air will be used up in… how long?”

“Less than an hour,” his second-in-command offers, arms crossed on his chest as he leans against a wall. “I’d wager around-” Baekhyun pauses here for effect, teetering his hand horizontally in a so-so motion, “-forty minutes or so.”

“ _Tragic_ ,” Kyungsoo says dramatically, shaking his head in mock sadness. “But since you guys have enough escape pods for your crew, we are willing to generously allow you to ride our slipstream to the nearest planet.”

He lets the offer hang. Seconds creep by, and eventually one of the crewmembers dutifully pipes up: “In exchange for what?”

Kyungsoo casually points the gun at him in lieu of a finger, and the man takes a wary step back. “ _Excellent_ question,” he says. “Considering how you didn’t plan for any of the _other_ passengers to be able to survive in the event of cataclysmic failure—much like the one you’re finding yourselves in today—there _should_ be a sizeable payment required for your lives. But…”

“That’s probably bad karma, boss,” Baekhyun offers, shaking his head thoughtfully.

He clicks his tongue, nodding thoughtfully along to Baekhyun’s suggestion. “Ah, you’re right. You’re totally right. We wouldn’t want that.” One glance at Tao, and his engineer saunters over to the panel, turning on the intercom and nodding at Kyungsoo: it’s live. Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Hello, everyone!” he announces cheerily. “This is Not-Your-Captain speaking! The ship is dying and your crew is abandoning it for greener pastures. If you are still alive, and are interested in remaining so, we have some space in our cargo bay if you want to hang out. No strings. However, you do have about… hmm, thirty five minutes or so to decide before life support runs out. Thank you for your attention and good luck!”

The crew around them are looking antsy. Kyungsoo spreads his arms out, “As much as I’d love to invite you guys on board, I don’t think any of your prisoners would take it well if you guys wanted to share the cargo bay. You know how it is.”

One of the crew members, for whatever absurd reason that they _always_ seem to have, decides to roar and rush him. Kyungsoo doesn’t even bother to lift his gun, choosing to shoot the man down with his best bored stare as the distance between them narrows. Three paces away, the man smirks in triumph, mistaking Kyungsoo’s inaction as a slow response to his utterly predictable move. And then something whistles through the air, and the man goes sideways, his expression never changing even as his head hits the ground, a small entry hole on the side of his temple.

Tao walks across the small room, the clicking sound of his heels echoing dramatically in the ensuing silence. He heaves a sigh as he leans down to pick up the bloodied throwing knife with a grimace, holding it by the tips of his fingers. “Gross,” he mutters.

“Thank you, my dear,” Kyungsoo says, smug eyes scanning the room again, brows raised in question. It’s rare that anyone else joins in after the first brave martyr. This crew appears to be no different. “Probably thirty minutes left by now,” he reminds them soberly.

—

“Boss,” Baekhyun calls, stepping closer to him. It’s almost time to leave. They’re just rummaging through the crew’s quarters now for anything worth lifting. So far, some porn and some pretty trinkets. Better haul than most slave ships, honestly, but only barely.

“Sup,” Kyungsoo mutters, thumbing through someone’s music collection. This might be worthwhile.

“One of the captives says he has to talk to you.”

In the ensuing silence, Kyungsoo looks up, his ears twitching in annoyance. “... _And_?”

“He says he wants to come with us, but he can’t stay in the cargo bay,” Baekhyun explains.

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

“What I said,” Baekhyun plucks one of the audio units out of Kyungsoo's hands, and replaces it with a small bauble. “But he insisted that he needs to talk to you, and you’ll want to hear him out.”

Kyungsoo stares at it blankly, turning the holographic stone in his palm and observing how it catches the light, wildly shifting color. “Nice fake,” he concludes confidently.

“If it is,” Baekhyun muses, “it's a good enough one to convince Minseok.”

He rolls the stone over. _Nothing_ gets past Minseok. A real Kai Jade. Roughly the size of his fingernail. Obscenely rare, and so valuable that one of this size alone could buy him… a _lot_ of shiny new toys.

Kyungsoo bounces it in his hand, enjoying the weight. “Well then, let's see what this bougie bitch wants.”

 

The door is barred from the inside. Kyungsoo lets out a small growl and glares down the empty hall before knocking.

“Who's there?” hisses an accusatory voice, and the door creaks as the prisoner leans his weight against the other side of it.

Kyungsoo raises his own voice to a faux cheeriness, “Housekeeping.”

“I need to talk to the new captain.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “that'd be me, genius.”

The prisoner grunts, and there is shuffling as he pushes something heavy to the side. The panel lights up to green and the door slides up.

Before him is a tall figure, humanoid—in fact, almost a satirically picturesque portrayal of a humanoid—all angular lines and proportionate. Kyungsoo would almost suspect visual enhancements if the person wasn’t a captive aboard a slave ship. He has a sash tied over his head to cover his left eye. The other one is the palest shade of grey, matching the silver of his hair. His fitted robes drape in multiple translucent layers, airy and almost glowing. White Telusian silks standing in stark contrast to his golden-brown skin.

"I said I needed to speak with the _captain_ ," the man scowls, annoyance dripping from each syllable as he looks over Kyungsoo, and apparently finds him lacking.

" _Again_ ," Kyungsoo counters, matching the irritation with his own condescension, "that'd be _me_ , genius."

The man gives him an incredulous look. " _You're_ the captain."

"Actually, _your_ captain is dead. I blew his brains out," Kyungsoo offers helpfully.

The seconds tick down in silence, but the man must be feeling the time crunch. Emotions flit across his face. He desperately wants to argue, to press for more questions, but time is running out. "Whatever," he mutters, shaking his hands in front of him as if to dispel his concerns. "I require private quarters on your ship." He takes a breath, mentally scrolling through his demands. "And I need a guard. Ideally, I'd request the captain, but..."

Now, he's curious. "But what?"

The man's tongue peeks out as he licks over his upper lip before sucking it in and nibbling on it anxiously. He knows not to offend, but he's not exactly mincing words and going for subtlety here. "I was hoping for someone more… formidable looking."

Kyungsoo sneers, "Looks can be deceiving."

"I don't need deception," the man says, waving a hand dismissively. "And we are running out of time. I have given you a deposit. I will give you two more stones upon my safe arrival to a planet of my choosing. You are to provide me a private room, where I can dine and wash. I need to be kept isolated from the rest of your crew and the refugees-"

"Are you, like, sick or something?" Kyungsoo asks as he takes a wary step back. It did not occur to him that any of the captives on board would be quarantined. Those typically aren't worth the slavers’ troubles.

The man shakes his head, hissing out a frustrated sound. "No," he says adamantly, stepping forth to follow Kyungsoo. "I can explain later. We do not have time for this."

"We kinda have to have time for this, if you want to board my ship," Kyungsoo says calmly.

His next inhale, however, he's more aware of his heart rate speeding up. His breathing has grown labored. Something the other man does not miss. The captive crosses his arms and stares him down. "I emit pheromones that induce sexual responses and trigger hallucinogenic episodes with prolonged exposure. It differs in potency from species to species, but seeing how you're already panting, I'd wager you should be able to piece together why I wouldn't want to be in public areas."

"You're-" Kyungsoo swallows, trying to will away the growing arousal. He can feel a foreign headiness starting to cloud his mind, even as bile rides to his throat. "You were to be a sex slave."

The man studies him, hesitance in his silver eyes as he assesses the weight of his answer. "Yes,” he finally confirms.

He needs fresh air. Just the thought of it makes him nauseous. It helps cut through the fog a bit. "Let's go then," Kyungsoo says, anxiously bolting into the hallway.

“Do we have a deal?” the man asks, lagging behind a few paces to allow Kyungsoo to breathe.

“It’s not like you have any other choice, right?” Kyungsoo shoots back over his shoulder. "You got a name? Or should I call you dick magnet or something?"

That earns him a very icy glare. "You may call me Jongin."


	2. Chapter 2

Could three Kai Jades really be worth all of this trouble though, Kyungsoo thinks to himself grumpily as he rolls his sheets up and tosses them into the laundry chute. He crosses the room in a wide arc, avoiding the sleeping mass on the bed in the corner. His joints ache from the thin pallet on which he's been spending the last few nights tossing and turning.

He should have negotiated for more if he had to sleep on the floor of his own quarters. This is some bullshit. Jongin could easily sleep on the floor too.

The towels are running low. Kyungsoo grabs the top one, and wipes down his crotch with a scowl. He should've woken up earlier. An extra ten minutes of sleep has him trying to scrub crusty cum off of himself, and given how this has been happening on a daily basis, he's starting to chafe.

That was the last of his sheets though, he observes with a defeated sigh. Three Kai Jades. Three Kai Jades. Three Kai Jades, he chants over and over to himself as he tosses the towel in as well, trying not to focus on how much of a scam that is, all things considered.

The surviving crew of the slave ship were picked up by local law enforcement once they came close enough to the planet to be snared in its artificial gravity field. It's the only way Kyungsoo's ship could refuel enough to make the jump to the more commercial planets, and thankfully, the police there were more than happy to overlook a no-name, small time pirate in exchange for dropping off more bottom-dwellers to work their mines. It's rather appropriate punishment for slavers, really.

To reiterate, _slavers_. In fact, the ones who tried to enslave the Kai'taran. So he’s not sure where Jongin gets off judging him for paying for safe passage with the very people who kidnapped him to sell as a slave - a _sex slave_ , no less - who would have been left to suffocate as the crew abandoned ship. But the sour diva did anyway, commenting at length on his lack of morals.

Prissy bitch.

Jongin, he quickly learns, is judgmental about a lot of things he does. Seemingly _everything_ he does. Delivering ironic justice to slavers? Lacking scruples. Cursing out his navigation panel for shorting out after a small jump? Hot-headed and foul-mouthed. Not eating his overcooked vegetables? Ungrateful and childish. Jongin seems to have an opinion on everything. And an inability to keep them to himself.

The Exoluxion’s cargo bay has lost many of its refugees in the past few days. Over half of them jumped off at the very first planet they arrived, not trusting Kyungsoo’s crew to not imprison them as well. More have been dropping off as they planet hopped, but a few are still lingering, willing to charter Kyungsoo’s ship to take them home instead of chancing being captured again. A couple people have even joined the crew. The known evil versus the unknown, they suppose.

 _His_ known evil needs breakfast. Kyungsoo grumbles as he enters the mess hall. Downgraded to babysitting duties because he got conned in a moment of compassion. ( _Utterly_ conned. He’s still salty about this.) Regardless, he loads up a tray with double portions, nods to any crew members who greet him, and heads back to the room.

“Hey!” he shouts, shutting the door quickly behind him to keep the scents mostly contained. He had tried putting Jongin in different quarters, but the paranoid Kai'taran wouldn’t accept any other bodyguard, and to be honest, Kyungsoo didn’t know if he could trust any of his crew to do the job. So here he is. Suffering.

Lazily, the lump under the sheets stretches out before rolling over to reveal a half nude Jongin, the opalescent jewels encrusted on his left cheek reflecting the dim light, taunting him. Mocking him. And to think, when they first met, he had assumed Jongin was half-blind.

“What’s that smell?” he asks, scowling over at Kyungsoo.

“It's called food, princess. Time to stuff your face hole.”

He got hustled. Scammed. Him. Captain fucking Do Kyungsoo of the goddamned Exoluxion. Got played by this diva. Jongin can just _grow_ Kai jades apparently. He fed Kyungsoo some bullshit line that this is how his species scars, and the rest of the universe just happens to worship these stones and consider them prized, exotic rarities, but they’re essentially scabs. He could totally spare some more scabs for Kyungsoo and his crew. But no. Kyungsoo agreed on three Kai Jades, and as much of a scoundrel that Jongin may think he is, a deal is still a fucking deal, especially with a refugee.

But _this_ one… Kyungsoo growls low as he brings the tray to the nightstand, hurriedly unloading half of its contents. Even with the forced arousal, the erection growing in his trousers, he's still more irritated than anything. Anger, it seems, is keeping him quite level-headed.

“The gruel they fed to the prisoners on the other ship was more palatable than this,” Jongin grumbles, poking at the Yyetsle daikons suspiciously. A couple weeks of Junmyeon’s culinary experiments has severely weakened the Kai'taran’s stance on finishing one’s vegetables.

“You’re welcome to go back to the other ship,” Kyungsoo snips from the opposite corner of the room, pausing as if to consider the thought. “Oh wait, I forgot, it’s scrap metal now, and you would’ve been floating around like a pretty little space popsicle. So, bon appétit.”

That earns him a silvery glare. Kyungsoo plasters on his best shit-eating grin before stuffing a large bite of the daikon mush into his mouth. Not the prettiest of foods, and true, more often than not, it’s overcooked, but Junmyeon’s cooking has never given him food poisoning at least. Which is more than he can say for most other cooks he’s encountered. Once you learn to suppress your gag reflex, it’s actually quite enjoyable. Three stars.

“This is fermented?” Jongin asks after taking a sip of his drink, the displeased wince heavy in his voice. “Do you really think it wise to be consuming alcohol with the constant exposure to my pheromones? How are you able to soundly captain this ship if you’re inebriated?”

Not his most mature move, but Kyungsoo tilts his glass back, finishing his drink in a few short gulps, setting it down with a loud clack that rattles his plate. It would take a massive amount of alcohol for his body to feel it anyway, with his metabolism. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and pointedly watches Jongin as he continues to eat.

Jongin growls under his breath, “Savages.”

Another grin from Kyungsoo causes Jongin to push his plate away in disgust and stand up, letting the sheets fall in a whisper to the bed. He barely touches most meals, so he’s lost a little weight since joining their ship (although Kyungsoo’s observed he’ll polish off a whole plate of fried gallus each time). Already slim to begin with, his ribs are starting to show these days, especially when he does his morning stretches. He turns away from Kyungsoo, revealing two long, diagonal lines across his back, prismatic, almost glowing in the low light.

Twin rows of pure, sparkling Kai jades.

...Scars. Scar patterns Kyungsoo is all too familiar with. No matter how beautiful they look, their origins match the ones across Kyungsoo’s body that he earned through disobedience. Lashings that would break full grown adults, much less a child, but that life has long passed.

“I _told_ you that you shouldn't drink,” Jongin says acidly, pulling him out of his reverie.

“What?”

Jongin clicks his tongue in disapproval as he shrugs into the first layer of his sheer robes, still facing the wall. “Must you leer? One would think your nocturnal emissions would be enough to stave off your instincts so you could actually act civilized.”

A few long seconds pass for him to realize he had been too fixated on the missing stone in Jongin’s lower back that it could come across as— “I wasn’t drooling over you,” Kyungsoo scoffs, leaning back from his tray, appetite gone now. “Trust me, precious, you’re not my type.”

Jongin whirls around as he pulls the next layer on, smoothing it into place with a sneer. He drops his gaze purposefully from Kyungsoo’s face to his crotch and back up again. “I don’t need to be _anyone’s_ type,” he declares plainly, “that’s the point.”

“I was-” His tongue catches on the explanation and he swallows it down hard. No need to defend himself. It won’t change any opinions anyway.

“When will we arrive at the Sound?” Jongin asks once he’s finally finished getting dressed.

“Six more days.” Six days. Three Kai jades. He’d tattoo this mantra onto his body if he thought it would make the hours go by quicker.

Jongin paces. “I’m going stir crazy,” he mutters to himself, wringing his hands.

“Fastest route isn’t necessarily the safest route,” Kyungsoo says sagely, internally smirking as Jongin pauses mid-step to glare at him. He dusts stray crumbs off of his pants and stands, adjusting his crotch and grabbing the tray to walk over and collect Jongin’s dishes.

Jongin chases after him. “It's been _weeks_ with nothing to indicate that we are in any dang—”

The room lurches sideways suddenly. Kyungsoo's loose grip on the tray sends it and its contents flying through the air, behind his head, as his vision fills with shocked silver eyes. Jongin slams into him, knocking the air from his lungs as they topple onto the bed. Pain bursts out all over his body from the collision. In his panic, Jongin had grabbed onto Kyungsoo’s ears for balance, but the stinging soreness is nothing compared to the split lip or the knee in his groin.

“Get—” Kyungsoo sputters, pushing at the Kai'taran, who spits and wipes at his mouth angrily, as if it was Kyungsoo who dove on top of him like some lunatic.

“What is going—”

The intercom chimes as the room lurches again. They tumble over each other, collecting more injuries, although this time, Kyungsoo at least has the wherewithal to shield his crotch from further bruising. He’s sandwiched between Jongin and the wall when a voice finally grunts and speaks through the speaker.

“Boss,” Baekhyun says, groaning as some metal screeches in the background, “we’re being hailed.”

He shoves Jongin away and crab-crawls over the bed, all too leery now of the heavy objects in the room. “Tell them if they want an answer to stop fucking with us. I’ll be right there.”

“You can’t leave me!” Jongin shrieks just as he opens the door. “You’re supposed to guard me!”

Kyungsoo pivots just enough to see the disheveled heap in the corner. Under different circumstances, it’d be funny to see Jongin like this, but he’s got a dozen crew members who are depending on his next actions. “Unless you want to chance the bridge with me, you’re safest here,” he rushes out before racing down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

On the one hand, while three Kai jades is worth a _lot_ , they wouldn't be enough to replace an entire ship and crew, most of whose company he's grown to appreciate over the years. On the other hand, whatever rogue scoundrel Jongin may think he is, Kyungsoo keeps his promises. Always.

Yifan is still monologuing. Even though Kyungsoo's never had the… _privilege_ of dealing with him before, the bounty hunter is infamous. What's worse, his crew definitely knows Yifan’s reputation. Full cooperation won't even guarantee they'll make it past this encounter.

It's not hard to trace their footsteps back to know how Yifan managed to find them. Slave ships tend to stay under the radar, but they still have to check in with their clients. If they don't report, it would not take much sniffing around to locate a sudden influx of prisoners working the mines on a planet near where they last made contact. And from there, they could get a full description of Kyungsoo, his crew, and their ship, which has been meandering through some more populated solar systems to drop off refugees. The question isn't how Yifan managed to find them, but rather _why_ they would bother ordering him to hunt down a little, no-name, old pirate ship. Yifan charges a king's ransom for his services. Is a fancy sex slave worth that much trouble?

At least they've stopped blasting magnetic waves at the Exoluxion and let their artificial gravity restabilize. Between his injuries and the constant shifts, Kyungsoo is nauseous and probably sporting a concussion.

“So,” Yifan rounds out, sounding bored as he picks at his talons, “don’t try to do anything stupid. Just send the prisoner over to me and you can be on your way.”

The hologram fizzles out, and the crew erupts into a cacophony of arguments. Kyungsoo’s ears twitch irritably as he holds a hand up, and they begrudgingly fall silent. “Stall if he hails us again,” he orders, getting a wary nod from Baekhyun.

He can't just give up Jongin. It would send a message to the rest of the crew that he'd hand them over just as easily. It didn't matter that if put up for a vote, every single one of them would toss Jongin out the escape port. Hell, they'd toss _him_ right out if they thought they could rally enough support.

His door opens before he can even palm in. Jongin yanks him into the room, eyes blazing.

“I've been paging you!” the Kai'taran hisses, mussing through his own hair as he starts to pace. He gives Kyungsoo an accusatory glare. “We made a _deal_!”

There are phantom tingles from the brief contact. Damn pheromones. Kyungsoo rubs his palms over his eyes, pressing into the lids in hopes of relieving some pressure. “Will you please shut up? I haven’t said anything yet. I need to think.”

“Think about what?” Jongin's voice is escalating. “How much I should go for?”

Kyungsoo drops his hands, shooting Jongin a cutting look. “Can you step back at least? I can't fucking breathe. I'm trying to figure out how to save _all_ of us, you included, so we won't die a fiery, painful death if I don't handle this perfectly.”

Maybe they can scrape all the Kai jades off of Jongin's back and pay Yifan off. No, from what he's heard of the bounty hunter, he wouldn't be content with just a dozen golden eggs—he'd want the whole goose. Not to mention that currently, only two people aboard the Exoluxion know that Jongin is capable of producing more ultra rare, high value jewels. There are only a handful among the crew whom he'd trust not to exploit that. Maybe… maybe maybe maybe.

“What is your plan?” Jongin asks impatiently.

“Maybe… we can divert all of our power over to the jump drive…” Kyungsoo mumbles to himself, already abandoning the plan as the words leave his mouth. Yifan’s ship is top of the line. Their power source is probably tenfold the Exoluxion’s and could easily chase after within seconds.

Jongin gives him a scathing look. “You don't have a plan,” he deadpans.

He's panting. He's _sweating_ and the concussion isn’t doing him any favors. “I'm trying to come up with one,” Kyungsoo argues, taking a step back to spread some distance between them. “Help by keeping your distractions to yourself.”

A minute goes by before he notices the silence and looks up to see Jongin mulling over something to himself. After some deliberation, the Kai'taran steps forward, closer, until Kyungsoo's skin is positively _buzzing_.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo exclaims, backpedaling hurriedly, fanning the end of his tail over his face with both of his hands, as if that’ll filter out the pheromones. “Watch it!”

“I have a plan.”

“Well, tell me from back there!”

“It-” Jongin grunts, swatting at Kyungsoo’s hands as he advances. “Stop fighting me! We don’t have much time. I need you to help me orgasm.”

“This is not the time for sexual awakenings, princess. We’re not dying yet,” Kyungsoo says, wrestling away from him.

Jongin growls and shoves him. “This is how we get out of this problem. Will you listen to me, already? This is the plan.”

“What is the plan?” Kyungsoo asks, exasperation saturating his words.

“ _The plan is for you to help me orgasm_ ,” Jongin grits out slowly.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, “go fuck yourself.”

Instead of advancing, Jongin heaves a sigh and starts undressing himself. “The hallucinations I mentioned when we first met,” he says, hastily draping the robes across the back of a chair, “they’re visions. So if you focus on an escape, I can channel my powers into a psychic probability leap, and… we might survive this thing.”

“...What.”

Instead of answering, Jongin turns to glare at him as he pulls off the last of his clothing and climbing onto the bed. He sits, feet pointed forward, hands clasped together on his nude lap, waiting expectantly.

Kyungsoo makes a vague gesture toward the exit. “Go… go use the Asstronaughty or something then,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing as he tries to avert his eyes. He’s got his tail wrapped around his body again, gripping it close against his chest, like a shield. “That’s what Baekhyun does.”

“Is the Asstronaughty captaining this ship?” Jongin counters, “Is Baekhyun? It needs to be the one whoever is calling the shots, which last I checked was _you_ , and we are running out of time. Stop being a child.”

This has to be a trick or a test, and at the most inopportune of times. "What, do you have a dick ex machina, or something?"

Jongin sighs, “I can see you’re having reservations about this. We _need_ to have sex. You have my consent. There. Now hurry up.”

His feet have somehow carried him across the room, so that Kyungsoo stands right against the bed, still clutching his tail and peeking over the dense fur to watch the Kai'taran with suspicion.

“If you weren’t going to do it,” Jongin spits out, “you would’ve stayed over there. If we die because you needed time to get over your moral dilemma, I’m going to strangle you with that stupid tail. It’s not like this is ideal for me either.”

His knee is on the bed. And now both knees. And then Kyungsoo is awkwardly shuffling across the mattress, still not quite believing what is happening. “So I have to fuck you,” he clarifies.

Jongin tears at his clothes, his face staying neutral the entire time. “We have to be joined,” he explains robotically, rolling away to loot around the nightstand and turning back to toss a bottle at Kyungsoo. “We have to orgasm simultaneously. You have to focus on an exit strategy.”

“Are you a genie?”

Jongin flops onto his back and glares up at him. “No,” he declares, unamused. “Now, hurry up.”

Before Jongin has a chance to growl at him again, Kyungsoo slowly climbs over his body. He's rock hard and feeling guilty for it, especially with Jongin's cock still soft, unaroused. But Jongin has consented. Is  _pushing_ for it, even, and although there's nothing inherently sexy about this situation, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been wanting to hate-fuck the Kai'taran for the last few weeks now. If for no other reason, than to relieve the pressure of this ever-present arousal. 

He nearly leaps back as Jongin yanks the bottle away, squirting lube onto his fingers and spreading his legs wider to tuck his hand between them. His face contorts into one of determination, nostrils flaring with each breath as he stares off into the ceiling. He passes the bottle back to Kyungsoo. “There,” Jongin says a minute later, wiping his wet fingers on a corner of the sheets. “Let’s go.”

Whatever doubts remain, Kyungsoo lubes up regardless, and grips his cock as he guides it into Jongin’s body. There’s another pang of guilt as Jongin holds his breath, wincing at the discomfort. But at the same time, Jongin wraps around him like the softest velvet, hot and smooth and snug, and Kyungsoo has to bite back a moan as he sinks in all the way. This is happening. This is really happening.

“Your tail is hitting my leg,” Jongin grumbles, a moment later, swatting at it.

It had been swinging eagerly, he notices. After a dozen more frantic pumps of relief, Kyungsoo shifts, tries to tuck it away, and lurches forward as he comes, gasping for breath. There is a strange, echoing feeling in his head, like he’s running down a long hallway, but it quickly dissipates.

Jongin sighs loudly as Kyungsoo continues to twitch inside him. “Did you seriously come that fast?” he asks, shaking his head in disappointment.

“You’re flooding me with your sex pheromones,” Kyungsoo argues weakly, grimacing as he pulls out, the cold room too sharp of a contrast to Jongin’s warm body.

“Useless,” Jongin mutters, sitting up and looking between his legs at the white liquid leaking out. He exhales loudly, and pushes Kyungsoo onto his back, patting around the sheets for the bottle.

Kyungsoo feels a rush of panic, “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” the Kai'taran says, tugging at his own cock. The bottle lands on Kyungsoo’s stomach before he can catch it. “Stretch,” Jongin orders.

There’s a dull ringing in his ears. His thoughts are sluggish enough already, and he’s still recovering from an earth-shattering orgasm. His brain slowly reboots. “No.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Kyungsoo glares at him before reluctantly spreading his legs. He hasn't done this in ages, but this isn’t a battle worth pursuing. Not right now, anyway. It's a hard concept to swallow, but Jongin's right. They're pressed for time. This needs to just happen. “I… I don’t need to stretch.”

“Fine.” Jongin is finally hard enough and scoots closer, taking aim and pressing in. He looks annoyed at the resistance, but manages to remain patient, pushing steadily until Kyungsoo’s body gives and allows him in. There’s a sharp sting, but he was built for this. For once, Kyungsoo is actually grateful for the pheromones Jongin’s pumping out, helping to dull the discomfort away. His eyes shutter close, and Kyungsoo tries to ride the high to allow himself to relax.

Jongin starts to move, his motions rigid and shallow. Another sigh escapes, and the bed shifts to his sides as Jongin brackets his head, leaning down so they’re face to face.

His eyes open to seas of silver. And then Jongin scrunches up his face and looks to the side, avoiding eye contact.

“You're barely hard,” Kyungsoo says. “It doesn't feel like anything. It’s supposed to be simultaneous, isn’t it? I’m not gonna come from this. Honestly, I’d be surprised if _you_ could come from this.”

Jongin frowns, and tries to put some more enthusiasm into his thrusts, but even he’s forced to concede that his waning erection isn’t going to get them anywhere. He grunts and looks back at Kyungsoo, pursing his lips in thought.

“Have you recovered yet?” the Kai'taran asks. “I am... not good at this.”

“You’re the one who made us go with this stupid plan,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “Hurry the fuck up.”

While Jongin doesn’t benefit from the effects of his own hormones, it seems anger works for him just fine. Enough to sustain a semi-decent erection to pump away rigidly for a few minutes, before Kyungsoo pushes him away and gestures for him to climb back into Kyungsoo’s lap. No complaints from the Kai'taran, who eagerly sinks down and tries to focus on some imaginary point on the wall. At least he rides better than he fucks. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and tries to just tune out the weird situation he’s in, focusing on just the sensation as he tries to conjure up any sexy memories.

A small gasp causes him to open his eyes. It’s not a trick of light. There’s a warm glow to the stones on Jongin’s cheek as he stares blankly into Kyungsoo’s face. His mouth hangs open, “Hurry…”

He can’t look away. The Kai stones pulse faster. Like a heartbeat. Subconsciously, his grip tightens around Jongin’s hips, guiding him down as he feels his stomach tighten up and the pressure building.

“Focus,” Jongin gasps, blinking rapidly, as if trying to shake himself into focus. He repeats it, sounding more panicked, eyes widening.

His mind has laser-like focus right now, but it occurs to him that Jongin’s reminder might not be related to their current buildup. _Escape_. The word flitters in among the growing pressure, but he doesn’t give it too much attention. It merely whispers again before disappearing, leaving behind the lavender glow of the jewels on Jongin’s skin, shifting in shades rapidly, lime to rose to peach, every tilt of Jongin’s face causing the facets to reflect differently, in sync.

Jongin lets out a single, soft grunt before he throws his head back, gasping as his body tightens up like a bowstring. A drop of sweat beads on his chest and slides into one of the grooves of his stomach, dripping slowly over his tense abdomen. Kyungsoo follows it with rapt attention, to Jongin’s cock, twitching, glistening as it spurts his release.

Kyungsoo comes, after what feels like a lifetime in a single second, and he nearly chokes as his head lands on the sheets. A thousand paths he’s racing down, like his mind has been splintered into dozens of tiny pinpoints of light. Everything is blurry, too out of focus to make sense of, and some spots already darkening as he feels time creep by. More streams blink out of existence. He feels like he’s running—no, like he’s being piloted. This path collapses, and he abandons it, holding tight to the other strings. Only a dozen or so left now. Only four. Three.

Only one.

A hand on his cheek has Kyungsoo blinking and scrambling to sit up. Jongin struggles for balance and pushes against his chest.

“Calm down,” he says, an unusual, comforting tone to his voice. “Breathe.”

Kyungsoo breathes. He blinks and swipes at his eyes, feeling like he just ran at breakneck speed for hours, and yet on edge, so full of energy, so—

“Go,” Jongin says, sliding off of him and tossing clothes his way. “Just follow it. You know where it leads. That’s where you are right now. You’re just following your footsteps back.”

The words make no sense, but they rattle around in his head and slot into place regardless. He’s on his feet, hastily covering himself, mindless of Jongin’s cum dribbling down his chest, barely able to catch one last glance of the Kai'taran curled up on the mattress before he’s fleeing the room, racing toward the bridge.


	4. Chapter 4

He’s still not over the idea of catching up to oneself. As if there was a part of him left behind somehow, and it has just scrambled to join the rest of his consciousness. The disorientation is still present, hours later, after the damage has been done.

They’ve had to make an emergency landing. The planet is called Tartaran, and the first people to come up and greet them with guns and radios were enough to put Kyungsoo’s nerves to the test. This is a dead end planet. This is a refugee planet.

Each step he takes feels like he’s sinking into quicksand, walking amongst these people.

 _His_ people.

Yifan’s ship managed to land a blast past their shields just as they timed an utterly reckless jump. Or rather, it would’ve been reckless if Kyungsoo didn’t have full faith that he would make it through the other side. Jumping into a field of asteroids was asking for a violent death sentence, yet somehow, miraculously, they made it. However, their life support took the parting shot from the bounty hunter, and they’re rapidly losing heat to the cabins.

Tartaran. So this is where his people fled to, once they were discovered, once the worlds united in outcry over the experiments done to bring them to life. Once the public fined the companies for illegal humanoid experimentation, and then had to move them somewhere out of sight. Out of mind.

Into this hellhole.

They have no use for Standard currency. One of the older men argues with Baekhyun over this matter until Kyungsoo steps in and offers food and supplies as trade. This earns them one full day, two houses. It should be enough. It will have to be enough.

When he came back to his quarters, Jongin was already dressed once again in his robes, sitting primly on a chair in the corner. Not a hair out of place, not a word uttered, just one eyebrow lifted in question.

“We made it,” Kyungsoo exhales, watching the Kai'taran nod and turn away. Indifferent. He has so many questions.

“I’m hungry,” Jongin says into the silence that follows.

Right. He’s not sure why he thought that they would be any different. What happened earlier was out of necessity. No camaraderie here. The strange feeling of disappointment sinks from his throat into his gut as he clears his throat, “Sorry, princess, we have to land.” He remembers the heavy suit in his hands, finally, and steps closer to toss it the rest of the way. “We’ll find you something to eat once we see how bad the damage is.”

“You want me to _leave_?”

Motivational. Kyungsoo sneers, “It’s leave or freeze. The suit should mask your scent enough until we can get you a room. Can you find your way to Bay Seven on your own?”

The answer comes immediately, with a snap, “No.”

He wants to storm off, but grinds his teeth and mutters something about getting suited up quickly then instead. Infuriatingly, Jongin needs help getting into it, and help again ensuring that the stones on his face are concealed properly before putting the helmet on.

“Does-” Kyungsoo clicks his tongue as they walk down the corridor, trying to figure out his phrasing before the words can leave his mouth, “Does the… orgasm… whatever it is that happened—does that dampen the effect of your pheromones?”

Jongin shakes his head, nervously huddling closer with too many people walking past them. “You’re just tired. Arousal can only go so far.”

—

Crushed glass lines the top of the walls separating the two houses—if you can even call them that. Stolen or salvaged sheet metal and plastic, force fitted into place to form a habitable box. Not all the houses here are like that, but it’s closest to the ship, and they still have to guard against scavengers at night, lest they wake up to find a metal skeleton instead of the Exoluxion.

As much as he wants to pitch a fit, he lets Jongin have the bed in their room without a fight. The floor is just smoothed over dirt. The ship has already been sealed for the night. There’s no going back to grab blankets to make a pallet, and now he’s just too bone tired to argue.

Of course, though, the floor is hard and uneven, and even exhausted, Kyungsoo eventually starts tossing and turning, grunting his displeasure as he tries to find a less lumpy area.

“ _Stop_ ,” comes the gruff order from the bed, followed by an annoyed sigh.

This asshole. “The floor hurts.”

Jongin exhales loudly before muttering something.

“What?”

“Come sleep on the bed. You keep moving. I’m never going to be able to sleep at this rate.”

He is confused, but now is not the time for looking gift horses in mouths. His back hurts. His hips hurt. Kyungsoo darts across the small room, only for Jongin to stick his foot out, not allowing him to climb on.

“Dust off first. You’re disgusting.”

Well. Good to know nothing’s different. Kyungsoo hastily brushes off before swatting the foot aside to roll onto the bed, sighing blissfully as his body can actually sink into something. He sticks his tongue out as Jongin rolls away, and turns to face the opposite direction as well. Whatever, this is a thousand times improvement.

Sleep was just weighing down on him when Jongin speaks.“Did I hurt you earlier?”

“Muh?” Kyungsoo manages to grunt out, hoping the sound will go away.

“When we— You did not prepare yourself.”

Kyungsoo cracks an eye open into the dark room. He fights the temptation to snarl and instead reaches for his tail, bringing it up to his face, stroking through the soft fur on the end. It’s comforting. “We were pressed for time,” he says, “I didn’t need to.”

“Any time that I have done that without preparing… it would hurt. It would ache.”

Is there a reason Jongin is focusing on his asshole? Kyungsoo buries his face behind his tail, curling up on himself. The Kai'taran must be trying to sniff out the link between Kyungsoo and the inhabitants of this planet. For what purpose, he can’t figure out yet, but it seems Jongin won’t settle in for the night until he’s gotten some answers.

“My spe— We were created… to be cute little sex toys, basically,” he explains, suppressing a yawn. “So while it’s still uncomfortable, we couldn’t be… damaged easily, or else our rich owners would have to be inconvenienced or disgusted.”

“Did you know we would land here?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, immediately feeling foolish, since Jongin isn’t watching him anyway. “Was I supposed to? I didn’t… _see_ that far ahead.”

“I thought you chose this path because you had wanted to visit this place. I didn’t know if it was…”

Home? No. “I knew that after the project was exposed and shut down, the IF tried to ship everyone to abandoned planets, as some sort of half-assed ‘sanctuary.’ I don’t recall any sanctuaries in history being named after literal Hells.”

This is not a good talk. He had been too tired to feel complex emotions, but being able to lie down comfortably is recharging him somewhat. Seeing faces so similar to his, the trademark ears and tails, seeing them abandoned in a place like this… He does not want to think about it.

“Were you—”

Kyungsoo waits, but nothing else comes. He clears his throat expectantly, and tilts his head closer. Nothing. “...Was I what?”

The Kai'taran seems to be considering his words, which is unusual. He’s not one to care about hurting Kyungsoo’s feelings.

“I was a priest,” Jongin says instead, speaking softly. “I was raised in the temple. I was always meant to be a priest, because I had a natural penchant for the visions. Some… patrons who came to our temple seeking answers, they were impatient. And rough.”

Seeking answers. As in engaging in the… sex ritual or whatever it was they did earlier. He does not know what to make of this sudden honesty. After batting down several questions, Kyungsoo picks the least offensive one, “Was I rough earlier?”

“No.” The answer comes quickly enough to be considered sincere. “That’s not- I was just-” Instead of finishing his sentence, Jongin sighs in exasperation and falls into silence.

“Is that what you’re trying to go back to? Being a glorified sex slave instead of officially being a sex slave?”

Righteous indignation was the expected response. Instead, Jongin deliberates the question and answers quietly, “I don’t know what else to do.”

In all of their arguments, not once has Jongin managed to silence him with his scathing remarks, but this bizarre confession does the job. He listens to Jongin’s breathing, ears twitching to hone in on the rise and fall of his chest. It’s shallow, but not the peaceful lull of sleep.

Jongin sighs, “I’m going to sleep.”

“I ran away,” Kyungsoo whispers suddenly, puncturing the silence and surprising himself. “When the news broke, and the experiments were revealed, I knew if my m-... if my… master… had to pay a fine and give me up or dispose of me, resell me, whatever it was, he’d rather put me in the ground.”

“...So you became a pirate.”

Kyungsoo lets out a bark of a laugh. “So I became a pirate.”

“I guess that’s not a bad reason to be an outlaw,” Jongin muses softly.

He’s eager to get off of this subject and back to more familiar territory. None of his crew know this. It would ruin all of his credibility if they ever found out he was just some escaped slave with a can-do attitude. This is dangerous. “Is that—Is that _approval_ I hear?” Kyungsoo quips, craning his neck to peek over his shoulder.

Jongin scoffs, although it somehow sounds like a laugh, and he rocks back, like he’s going to roll over, but freezes before he can commit. “Don’t push for more, or you can go back to sleeping on the dirt.”

“At least you don’t think I’m going to attack you in your sleep anymore. That’s nice.”

“You’re too tired to manage anything. I’m not concerned.”

“Or maybe you’re just bad in bed, and I don’t want a repeat.”

Jongin snorts. It’s such a surprising sound to come from him, it catches Kyungsoo off guard. “I wouldn’t be complaining about bad sex if I were the one who came within seconds.”

He flushes, but recovers, “It was from your hormones, and you know full well. At least I know what to _do_ with my dick. I swear, that was like being fucked by a virgin.”

No comeback. Kyungsoo props himself up on his elbows to look at the Kai'taran, who licks over his lips nervously, studiously avoiding eye contact.

“...Uhh, are you?”

There's a long pause before Jongin forces a scoff. “Of course not.”

It doesn't sound very convincing. Perhaps Jongin realizes this too. “I've just never… been the… giver before,” he clarifies in a small voice.

In the ensuing silence, Kyungsoo realizes too late that maybe he should have said something comforting or supportive. But that's not what he's here to do, and the old bed is unbelievably comfortable, and before he knows it, he's already drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

“For what it's worth,” Baekhyun says once he's emptied the cup and slammed it down on the table, “I agree with them.”

“That doesn't fix everything,” Kyungsoo argues. “Yifan will still be looking for us, and he'll just think that we are refusing to cooperate if we don't turn him over next time.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “Who in the crew _isn't_ wanted by some agency or other? He's out of danger here. Hell, who would even look for him here? _No one_ comes out here.”

Tao and his team are working on the ship's life support this morning. From what he's reported back, it will only take a couple hours at most, but they have to let the system charge up and restabilize, and won't be able to leave until tomorrow morning. The price of running an older ship, he supposes. Kyungsoo shrugs, trying to maintain his mask of indifference as he finishes the last of his sweet drink with a sigh. “I haven't made my decision yet,” he says, scooting back and standing up. A dozen heads nod his way in acknowledgement as he makes his way to Junmyeon, taking the tray and heading back to his room.

He feels the waves hit him the instant the door opens, and hastily closes it before it attracts unwelcome company. The pheromones have definitely not diminished in potency. He had awoken this morning to the same sticky crotch as the last two weeks, although this time, accompanied by a strangely soothing sensation. Like someone had been stroking his ears. But once his eyes finally, reluctantly opened, he found only a sleepy Kai'taran lying a breath away, snoozing peacefully while he had to shamefacedly clean himself and suffer putting the same, dirtied pants back on.

“Wake up,” he says, just as Jongin sits up and stretches, sniffing the air curiously.

The Kai'taran’s eyes brighten as he recognizes the meal. “Fried gallus?”

He quashes the memory of hunting down a source for fresh gallus and bartering for them this morning. He just had a craving. That's all it was. It being Jongin's favorite only now crosses his mind. That's it. Purely coincidental. Not at all an apology. “Yeah,” he says, stepping close enough to set the tray on the edge of the bed. “Enjoy.”

“You're not eating?” Jongin asks, gathering the tray closer so he can inhale the plate greedily.

He stands by the door. “No, I ate earlier,” Kyungsoo explains, looking at the floor.

“I thought we were just waiting things out until the ship was ready,” Jongin says. “Where are you going?”

“Look,” Kyungsoo says, feeling suddenly defensive, “you don't need me to sit here and watch you eat, do you? Are you gonna choke on a bone if you're unsupervised?”

Jongin straightens his torso, rearing back as if slapped. He pushes the tray minutely, focusing on it. “Thank you,” he says coldly.

Why does he feel guilty? “It’s—”

“I'll set the tray outside when I'm done.”

Dismissed. Whatever. He slams the door on his way out.

—

“Explain it to me,” Kyungsoo says, leaning against the far wall.

Jongin sits in the opposite corner, legs folded neatly underneath him, hands resting palms down in his lap. “I do not get visions,” he says calmly, his face showing no emotion. “Think of it as… if I were a power supply. Upon release, I can pull you through multiple lifelines, until you find one that is… most ideal. From there, I anchor you—”

“Into the future.”

The placid mask slips. The corner of Jongin’s lips twitch in annoyance at the interruption, but he recovers, pursing his mouth into a thin line. He’s in a surprisingly chatty mood, even after their little spat earlier. “Yes. I anchor you, and then it is just a matter of following the line back. You have felt it yourself.”

“I felt like you shattered me into a thousand shards of light.”

A small smile graces Jongin’s lips. He looks… proud. “I have not heard of anyone with that ability before. I have trained for over almost two decades, and am among the most powerful, most naturally-gifted, and even then, I can only split you into eighty-eight possibilities.”

“Come again?”

“If you have the ability,” Jongin explains, “then with training, you can split someone into two possibilities. Like a coin toss.” His hand mimics flipping a coin into the air and catching it on the back of the other hand. “‘Should I go left or right?’ ‘Should I say yes or no?’ That kind of thing. With a _lot_ of practice, you learn to splinter them into more lifelines.” He pauses, as if gauging whether to contribute the next bit, but can't help but continue, “Most priests and priestesses strive to reach a dozen or so.”

“So-” It feels stupid to ask now. He can already imagine the answer. “-who would want you enough to send an expensive bounty hunter after you?”

Jongin shrugs. “Someone with power, I imagine.”

“Is there- Is there any chance that they just think you cure impotency? Or… or just want to… harvest the Kai jades?” Kyungsoo hazards, but even as the theories leave his lips, he knows that is false. A sex toy is one thing. A sex novelty does not warrant this much effort to retrieve. Life revolves around sex. There’s plenty to go around. Jewels, it’d be more likely. They’re insanely valuable, after all, but if they knew the origin of the jewels, then they would surely have easier ways of procuring them from other Kai'tarans.

“It’s possible, I guess.” Jongin sounds pretty skeptical as well.

“So is going back to your temple really the best option?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin bristles. “What happened was a fluke. Many people of all kinds of influence and power patronize the temple. It has a protected status. Those slavers—they ambushed and attacked us. They-”

“It was clearly planned,” Kyungsoo tries to explain. “You’d just be reshuffling the deck for them. Clean slate.”

“You have an answer for everything,” Jongin says acidly, silver eyes boring into his own. “Where do you think I should go then?”

Thank you.

“Here,” he says finally.

“What?”

“Right here,” Kyungsoo says, spreading his arms out. “This entire planet is full of refugees. There is some in-fighting, some drama. Some petty crime. But overall, it’s actually better than most metropolitan places. And it’s tucked away. No one would ever think to look for you here. We could barely land our ship safely, and our ship is _tiny_.”

“I-” Jongin’s mouth moves, but no sound comes out.

“There’s not much in ways to make contact off-planet,” he continues. “And they’re not big on trusting outsiders, as you can imagine. No one would be trying to go after the jades.”

“You’re marooning me here. Don't try to sugarcoat it.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head immediately. “This is the best plan,” he argues. “I’m not trying to get out of this deal, okay? It’s the safest option. Unless you can come up with a better one.”

Jongin’s jaw twitches as he clenches it. His eyes narrow before turning away, looking down at his hands. After a minute, he stands up slowly and starts to take off his robes.

“What-” Kyungsoo swallows. “What are you doing?”

“Paying you,” Jongin says, not bothering to look up as he continues to shed the layers of silk. “Although this wasn’t our agreed upon destination, so I don’t think full payment is deserved, since you are not fulfilling your end.”

His torso finally bared, Jongin reaches behind him to feel around his back. He pries at the edge of one of his scars, grimacing in pain.

“Wait!”

Jongin notices him looking and looks away to the wall, continuing to dig savagely into his skin until he whimpers and a red bead drips down from where his fingers were, landing on the waistband of his trousers. He pants as he brings his hand around to look at what he has extracted, wiping at his eyes with his clean hand. Satisfied, he tosses the stone toward Kyungsoo, who reaches out to catch on reflex.

The stone stamps red as it bounces on his hand, coating it in blood. Kyungsoo stares at it in horror. “What the f- Did you not hear me?” he shouts. “I said to wait!”

“Why, did you want to pick which one yourself?” Jongin sneers, blotting at the wound with a small towel. He nods at Kyungsoo’s hand. “Don’t worry, it’s one of the bigger ones.”

Kyungsoo gapes at him, still in shock. It didn’t even occur to him that this would be such a violent act. “Are-… are you okay?”

“Our deal is settled.” The wound is still bleeding, despite Jongin’s attempts at stemming it. Not profusely, but it’s already soaked through the towel. “I require someone to bring me food and guard me. I trust that you can find a local substitute.”

He’s being dismissed again. No. “This is my room,” Kyungsoo says angrily, clenching a fist around the warm stone. “You don’t get to just send me away like some servant.”

“ _I wouldn’t presume_ ,” Jongin grits out, “ _to send you away_. But since I don’t know when you will be leaving, I thought I should put my requests in beforehand, lest I wake up to find myself truly stranded.”


	6. Chapter 6

He's being stubborn. He knows this. Knowledge of the matter does not encourage him to overcome it, however. Kyungsoo glares daggers into the back of Jongin's silver head, letting anger override the arousal fighting for attention. From here, looking down at Jongin's bare back, he can see the wound, still red and weepy, even though it's finally stopped bleeding.

Jongin sighs loudly and wiggles around on the mattress, trying to get comfortable. He's been ignoring Kyungsoo again, curling up facing the wall, but he suddenly jackknifes and flips around, so that they are eye to eye.

“ _What_.” Diva.

“What.”

Jongin rolls his eyes and wraps his arms tighter around himself. “I am trying to sleep. Stop staring at me. Or go lie back in the dirt.”

“My room,” Kyungsoo repeats his earlier argument petulantly. “My bed.”

Jongin blinks first, losing their impromptu staring contest and transforming his dull gaze into a full on glare. He scoots closer instead, unwilling to concede defeat. There’s enough light in the dark room that his eyes shine, the silver reflecting like mirrors. He’s laying on his left side, on most of the Kai jades on his cheek. Would that feel uncomfortable? But he rests on his back too, so—

“I let you on the bed yesterday as an act of kindness.”

“You have a fucked up view on what constitutes as kindness, princess.”

“I’m not the greedy bastard who dumps people on abandoned planets.”

Kyungsoo sees red. “Greedy?” he echoes. Well, greedy, yes. Bastard? Yes, too. Right on both accounts. Regardless… “The last few weeks have been downright _charity_ —”

“Is that why you’re not letting me sleep in peace? Over payment? In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t where I asked—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Kyungsoo rolls up onto his elbows to stare down at the Kai'taran. “Do you think it’s been easy, taking care of you?”

“...So what then? Trying to extort more payment?”

“I didn’t even ask for the fucking stone, asshole.”

A smug, humorless smile stretches over Jongin’s lips. It doesn’t fit with the look in his eyes. It doesn’t fit anywhere. “You should’ve just said you wanted another vision then,” he says mockingly, “instead of being coy. Subtlety doesn’t suit you.”

Once understanding reaches him, Kyungsoo recoils. “I’m not—”

“No,” Jongin’s voice drips of acid, “you’ve just been staying clear of me for the last several weeks. And then I helped us escape the bounty hunter, and suddenly the payment I promised isn’t good enough anymore. And here you are, willingly subjecting yourself, up close and personal, to my pheromones. In hopes of what? Riling yourself up enough to find some courage?”

“It’s—”

“Don’t be a coward, _captain_. If that’s what you wanted, you should’ve just said so. I could be sleeping already.”

Kyungsoo goes to protest, but Jongin is already lifting his hips to push his pants down, kicking them off the rest of the way. He hisses as his back hits the bed, and before Kyungsoo can process it, he’s grabbed onto Jongin’s waist, pulling him upright.

“You’re going to bleed all over the place.” His fingertips touch some hard, smooth bumps along the soft skin of Jongin’s back. The scars. His hand freezes. Kyungsoo gapes blankly before recovering and shaking his head. “Y-you probably shouldn’t-” _He_ shouldn’t be touching. Jongin is definitely more potent with physical contact, but his fingers feel magnetized onto Jongin’s skin and he can't seem to let go. He swallows heavily, watching Jongin do the same. “You… probably shouldn’t lie on your back,” Kyungsoo finishes lamely.

“Would you rather me on my knees?” Jongin asks, but the heat is gone now. His eyes shine, and from this distance, Kyungsoo can make out little flecks of lavender and gold within the silver.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kyungsoo whispers.

Jongin finally breaks eye contact, shifting his gaze upward before his hands follow. Kyungsoo gasps at the touch, jumping slightly as Jongin traces down the edges of his ears until he reaches hair, and works his way back up.

Just as his eyes flutter shut at the sensation, both exhilarating and yet somehow vaguely familiar, Jongin speaks softly, fingers stopping their exploration, “What did you mean then? That you didn’t... want a vision after all?”

“I think you’re projecting,” Kyungsoo moans. “I think you want to s-say goodbye, and you don’t know how.”

He looks up just in time to see the look of shock melt into yet another arrogant sneer. “You seem to be rather adept at dodging questions.”

Kyungsoo leans into Jongin's hands the next time he strokes through the soft fur. “I don't want a vision,” he says plainly, nuzzling into Jongin's fingers as they trace over his face.

He catches Jongin's hands as they pull away, and looks up in question.

“If you don't, then—” Jongin looks anywhere but his face, still trying to tug his hands free. He swallows. “—then let me go to sleep.”

Jongin makes a startled sound as Kyungsoo releases him, only to reach between the Kai'taran’s legs, and brush over his erection.

“You're hard.”

“ _You're_ hard,” Jongin counters, trying to shy away.

“Last time, you could barely stay—” He frowns as Jongin pushes his hand off and shuffles back.

“If you don't want anything from me—” Jongin says shakily, reaching for his pants, only to have Kyungsoo sidestep and block him. He shoves Kyungsoo, hard enough that it sends him sprawling backwards. By the time he's upright, Jongin's pulling his pants back on. “I- I need to sleep. Go lie on the floor.”

“No,” Kyungsoo says, catching the waistband of Jongin’s pants and preventing him from being able to cover back up.

“ _Stop_ it.”

With a sigh, he lets go and sits back on his haunches. Jongin jerks his pants up the rest of the way and stares at him—stares _past_ him, until Kyungsoo realizes his tail is busily swishing back and forth and wills himself to stay still.

“Listen,” he says quietly, pulling his tail into his lap and wringing it, “tell me to, and I will go to the floor.” He hears Jongin suck in air, as if ready to do just that and hurries forth, “I don’t care about your vision or whatever—I don’t want it. But I… I want _this_. Just… being together. With you. And I think you do too, but you have to actually tell me.”

Jongin exhales in a shudder.

“You’re pushing for me to use you, and that’s not what I want. It’s not what you want either.”

“Don’t tell me what I want.”

Kyungsoo purses his lips and goes silent.

“I-... I’ve never- “ Jongin grimaces, looking defeated and conflicted. “We don’t- The purpose of sex is for training, or to serve the patrons of the temple...”

“You’re not a slave here. Or a priest.”

Jongin’s face contorts, like he’s about to unleash a scathing comment, but he looks at Kyungsoo and his anger recedes, as if he sees something there that extinguishes it.

He thinks of their conversation the night before, of them comparing histories, contrasting their past. They’re not that different, truth be told. Except Jongin chooses to seek safety, or at least comfort, in rules, whereas he has abandoned them, in a way.

“...Do you want me to leave?” The words turn to ash in his mouth. But Jongin doesn’t seem to catch the alternate meaning and shakes his head slowly before quietly answering no, still refusing to meet his eye. Kyungsoo scoots forward a little, careful not to startle the Kai'taran, and freezes as Jongin grabs his tail, pulling it into his own lap.

“Why are you so soft,” he mutters as he combs through Kyungsoo’s fur with his fingers.

“I moisturize.”

That prompts a snort and a rare small smile, and Jongin glances up just long enough to roll his eyes.

“Were you playing with my ears this morning?”

Is he blushing? Jongin’s mouth opens, but it takes several tries until he actually speaks. “...Yes.”

“I _knew_ it!”

Jongin gives him a stern look. “It- It wasn’t on purpose at first. You rolled into me, and your ear poked my nose. It woke me up. I was pushing you away.”

He leans closer, resting his forehead gingerly onto Jongin’s shoulder and nuzzling against the collarbone. “Like this?”

Jongin’s hands move back into his hair, and then up into his ears, stroking along the grain with the pads of his thumbs. “Yes,” he sighs, nosing into Kyungsoo's hair.

He straddles one of Jongin's thighs to get closer, rubbing his sides encouragingly. “You weren't doing it when I woke up.”

After some hesitation, Jongin answers, “...Well, you came… and then you woke up, and—”

“You were sleeping when I woke up.”

“Oh… Yeah.”

Kyungsoo sputters. “You made me come and then pretended to sleep? How many times have you done this?”

“Never!” Jongin pulls back, embarrassed. “It was an accident! It's not like I knew that would happen...”

Kyungsoo tilts his head up and connects their lips. It is awkward, with Jongin going rigid, but the Kai'taran pulls him closer when he tries to ease back, so he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss, climbing fully onto Jongin's lap.

Jongin's tongue runs over his lips when Kyungsoo sits back. His mouth turns upwards into a small smile. “This was better than last time you tried this.”

“Last time?” What last time?

“On the ship…”

Kyungsoo blinks. “ _You_ … fell on _me_. I still have canker sores from it! That's not a kiss.” Jongin starts to argue, but gasps and grips onto his shoulders as Kyungsoo dips down and drops more kisses into the crook of his neck. “ _These_ are kisses,” he murmurs, nipping at his collarbone.

“Clothes,” Jongin says, tearing at his shirt a moment later.

He's knocked onto his back again as Jongin sheds his shirt and goes for his pants next. “You're the one who put yours back on.”

“Shut up.”

But now that they're both naked, Jongin turns shy again, biting his lower lip and looking at him from beneath his lashes. He looks quite pretty…

“Fuck.”

“What?”

Kyungsoo racks his brain, looking around for answers. “Um,” he mumbles, “...lube.”

“It’s in my bag.”

“What?”

Jongin shrugs and gives him a pointed look. “I didn’t know if we would be attacked here or not. So I came prepared.”

There’s a joke in there somewhere, but Kyungsoo’s been sustaining this erection since he came storming back into the room hours ago. He’s across the floor and back, holding the bottle, within seconds, slicking his fingers up before he stares blankly at Jongin.

“What?”

The lube is dripping down his fingers and gathering into his palm. “Did you want to…” he trails off, remembering the confession last night.

Instead of answering, Jongin looks at his glistening fingers and carefully lies down, rearranging his legs so they’re on either side of Kyungsoo’s. He stays propped up on his elbows, watching him expectantly.

“Talking is good, you know,” Kyungsoo simpers, prodding with slick fingers. Jongin moans to his touch, hips lifting off the bed when Kyungsoo wraps his other hand around his cock.

“You talk too much.”

He doesn’t know many particulars about Kai'taran anatomy, but soon, Kyungsoo has him loose enough that he can push further in, finding a rough bump along the inner wall that he flicks in time with his other hand’s strokes that has Jongin moaning so loudly, he actually gets concerned.

“Are you okay? Does this hurt?”

“What did you do?” Jongin gasps, spreading his legs wider apart. “What is that? What are you— _oh—fuck_! What are you doing?”

“Has no one ever done this for you?” Kyungsoo asks, leaning over to lick at a dusky nipple, beaming to himself as Jongin bucks hard against him and cries out. “I can’t believe you’re so sensitive.”

Jongin babbles incoherently. “I’m ready,” he finally makes out, pushing weakly at Kyungsoo’s hand even as he thrusts into his fist. “I’m ready, _please_.”

As much as he wants to continue taking Jongin apart, he’s been dying for release. But he manages to bring Jongin’s voice up to a full shriek with a couple well-aimed jabs at his sweet spot before pulling his fingers out and lining up, rubbing fresh lube over himself as he pushes in.

Jongin’s eyes are wet, his lashes soaked and clumped together when Kyungsoo sinks in to the hilt and hovers over him. He opens his mouth, ready to ask if he had hurt him, when Jongin pulls him down by his ears, pressing their lips back together.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, swiping his knuckles gently over Jongin’s eyelids.

“I’m not,” Jongin sniffles, pulling him in closer with each thrust, kneading the thin flap of his left ear between his fingers. He whimpers, and covers his eyes, as if overwhelmed. “Why does it feel like this?” he asks. “Is it because you’re leaving?”

His body is ready to betray him, too turned on to care about timing. So far, Kyungsoo has managed to hold back, but his orgasm is building, with or without his permission. He has no answer, only an uncomfortable tightening in his chest that he tries to push past.

He fixates on Jongin’s face, as the stones on his cheek start to glow, quicker and quicker in time with Jongin’s gasps. Jongin’s chest rises and stills as his body spasms, clenching hard around Kyungsoo as he whines out disjointed sounds. His cock twitches against Kyungsoo’s abdomen as white lines bloom, landing hot on both of them as his orgasm sends little shocks through his body.

It nearly pushes Kyungsoo over the edge, but by sheer will alone, he holds back. It wouldn't do to come now, triggering the splintering or visions or whatever Jongin called them. He breathes in hisses between clenched teeth, trying not to think of how tight Jongin's body is around him, how good he smells, and just strokes his sides patiently as Jongin comes down from his high.

Jongin whines and pushes his hand away when he tries to wrap it back around his cock.

“I can't believe you stayed hard this whole time,” Kyungsoo says, tracing along a raised vein with his fingertip.

There's a beautiful flush to Jongin's cheeks as he lays there, catching his breath and staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wants to move, to reach climax himself, but it doesn't seem—

“Come on,” Jongin urges, loosening his ankles from around Kyungsoo's waist and letting them fall to the mattress.

“Come on what?”

Jongin yanks on his ear, as if he were being obtuse. “Finish.”

“Ow…” He rubs at his ear, flicking the hand away. Jongin lets out a giggle, and he freezes, looking down at the Kai'taran’s amused face.

“...What?”

Kyungsoo is still staring in amazement. “I don't think I've ever heard you make that sound before.”

Jongin answers by clenching tight around him, causing him to jerk forward in surprise. “Come _on_ , already.” And there it is again, another giggle, barely hidden in his voice.

He thrusts, feeling the pool of heat return to his belly immediately. Jongin laces his fingers into his hair, scraping the scalp gently, before pulling up, again into his ears, carding the fur with his nails. He kneads a sensitive area, and Kyungsoo bucks forward with a snap of his hips, groaning as he dips his face into the side of Jongin's neck, sucking at whatever flesh he can blindly reach.

His orgasm hits him so hard he sees fireworks behind his eyelids, to where he was momentarily confused, wondering if he somehow triggered Jongin after all. But he opens them after a massive amount of effort to find just one set of vision, with Jongin studying him with a fascinated, pleased expression.

Kyungsoo pulls out carefully, grabbing Jongin's waist and guiding him so they can both roll onto their sides. “Is your back okay?” he asks, nuzzling into Jongin's chest.

Above him, Jongin hums a vague confirmation and plays with his hair and ears again, folding them back. It feels so soothing, in the afterglow. This is a world apart from their last time. He could doze right off like this.

“Thank you.”

It sounds so sincere, Kyungsoo pulls back to look up into his face. Jongin wears a somber expression, not quite making eye contact as he worries his lip.

“You've taken great care of me,” Jongin says quietly. “Not… just tonight. I mean, since you've rescued me.”

“It's—”

Jongin shakes his head and frowns, frustrated at himself. “I know—I know we had an arrangement, but… you didn't just fulfill it. You were… kind. And respectful. Even as I remained suspicious.”

“Don't go telling people,” Kyungsoo smiles weakly. “You're going to ruin my reputation.”

Jongin continues as if he didn't even hear him. “So I know that your decision to part ways here is not out of cowardice. Or greed.” His frown deepens for a second before he catches himself and tries to smooth it into a more placid expression. “I know… that it is the best decision. For both of us.”

Jongin is throwing him a life raft. He'd be an absolute fool not to jump on it. “You would be safest here,” he agrees. “Yifan is the most persistent bounty hunter out there, and he doesn't know where you are. He'll just be looking for our ship.”

“I'll give you the third stone. It should hel—”

“ _No_ ,” Kyungsoo says adamantly, shaking his head after. He has no desire to witness Jongin trying to mutilate himself ever again.

Jongin's lips form a thin line. He goes quiet.

“My crew can handle Yifan,” Kyungsoo boasts. “Especially now that we know he's got his sights on us. We've gotten out of tighter jams before.”

“They seem very competent.”

“...Did you meet them?”

Jongin looks up at him. “Not really,” he says. “When we were landing. Just seeing them respond to you. They seemed upset, but they were still doing their jobs.”

“Did any of them say anything to you?”

Jongin shakes his head. “Although- It's- I bet they're excited for tomorrow. To be back on the ship again.”

“Yeah…”

He wants to sleep, but sleep is for people who can afford the time. After a little, the conversation drifts away, both of them coming back to the same agreement. That this is indeed the best path. They both know this.

It doesn’t take a vision to know this.


	7. Chapter 7

It’s a habit now to expect a messy wake up, but as Kyungsoo stretches into consciousness, he’s surprised to find that while he’s rocking an ever-present erection, there is no accompanying sticky feeling for once.

Silver eyes greet him, and last night’s events come back in a rush as Jongin reaches up and flips his ears back with a grin.

Kyungsoo fakes a grimace and flexes them so they pop back into place. He had convinced Jongin to go for another round before they slept. It didn’t take much effort, until Jongin realized that he had wanted them to switch places. Still, it only took an initial minute or so before Jongin abandoned his shyness.

It had been a fun night.

And now it is morning.

Jongin flips his ears back again. “If I keep doing this, will you come?”

He pushes at Jongin’s face with a snort. “That was a fluke.”

The sun is rising. He rolls over and goes into autopilot, patting around the floor for his clothes and pulling them on. When he turns back to the bed, Jongin is still nude, frozen in place. His face has fallen, like it has just hit him what had happened. And what is about to happen.

Fuck.

He hasn’t even found Jongin a replacement bodyguard yet, having spent most of the day fighting with him and then all night… predisposed. And he needs the space suit. The Exoluxion only has a couple for the engineering team. He can’t exactly justify leaving this one behind. But then that effectively imprisons Jongin in this room, and he has not yet screened a single person.

What if—

“I guess… I can’t see you off,” Jongin says quietly. He had gotten out of bed sometime during Kyungsoo’s internal debate, and has pulled on a layer of silk to cover himself as he stands before him. He has a smattering of hickeys along the right side of his neck. Kyungsoo wonders how long it will take for him to realize they’re there. How long after he's gone for them to fade away.

“No, I guess not,” he echoes. He could run around for an hour, at most, and find someone. That’s not really enough time to see if a person is trustworthy, but his options are rather slim.

And what about payment? Making Jongin sell his body in one form or another for protection?

“So I guess this is goodbye then,” Jongin mutters, smoothing down the front of his robes unnecessarily. “It’s- It’s getting late.”

It _is_ getting late. “Let me get you some breakfast.”

Jongin stares at him for a while before answering. He shakes his head and manages a weak smile. “You don't have to do that anymore.”

“Since when did you stop needing to eat?”

“You're stalling.” For an instance, Jongin's lip quivers, but he stretches it out into a close-mouthed smile immediately. It doesn't reach his eyes. It's so wrong, to finally see him smile, only for it to be such a heavy act. “Your crew is waiting, Captain Kyungsoo.”

His fingertips feel numb. “I don't think you've ever said my name before.”

Jongin shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Poorly. “Good luck,” he says, breath hitching. “Be careful.”

Dismissed yet again. He reaches out, gently touching Jongin's fingertips with his own, curling them together before dropping away. It lingers for only a few seconds on his skin. “I… I will.”

“You better.”

Even with guilt weighing down each step he takes, Kyungsoo gathers his things and leaves. Baekhyun was already waiting for him outside, and tries to disguise rushing him along by helping him carry the suit and speed walking beside him.

What kind of life did Jongin live before he was captured? How different was it, really, from Kyungsoo's old life? Jongin may have been some high priest, but Kyungsoo's old collar was made of gold and encrusted with every gem too. And what life could he possibly have now, in this abandoned place?

_You're marooning me here. Don't try to sugarcoat it._

“We could jump to Maarten from here,” Baekhyun suggests happily. “Rattle some cages, you know?”

“I need to- I need to find him a new guard,” Kyungsoo mutters, feet dragging.

“Way ahead of you,” Baekhyun says, waving at some of the locals as they near the ship. “I asked the owners of the house to check on him. He's rich. He'll be fine.”

No. He has nothing. The clothes on his back. That's it.

Baekhyun continues rambling, “Everybody is so anxious to leave, the ship is all warmed up already. Like literally just waiting on us to step on board. This place is awful, boss. It sticks to you. All these people, just existing. Just surviving.”

They're no heroes. And even if he fancied himself one, what then? Lock Jongin away in his quarters, use him for his visions whenever they get chased down? How is that any different? Here, he is free.

And if Kyungsoo is going to feel soft-hearted, why not try to help the people here. _His_ people. Who were all in similar situations before being abandoned in this place.

He jams his hand into his pants pocket, feeling around for the little pouch. Nudging the drawstring open, his fingers brush over the two stones. If they stop at Maarten, he knows a guy there who will be able to find some clients who can actually afford these.

Jongin only has the one pair of pants, and now they're crusted with blood along the waistline.

Baekhyun is calling after him, but Kyungsoo pays him no mind. His feet slap the ground as he races back to the houses. He takes a corner too fast, and shoulders right into a wall, knocking it out of place. The sheet metal crumples like paper with a loud screech, with the other walls making threatening sounds of alarm.

“Hey!” he shouts, yanking on the door. It's locked, but it rattles like a loose tooth, ready to give with just a little more coercion. “Hey!”

It swings open before he can tear it down. Jongin stands before him, red rimmed eyes wide in shock.

“What are you doing? Is everything okay?”

“Come on,” he says breathlessly, holding his hand out. “I told you I'd get you breakfast.”

Jongin looks down at the proffered hand suspiciously. “You're going to be late, you idiot. Just go.”

“I'm _definitely_ going to be late if you don't hurry up and grab your bag, princess.”

“What are you talking about?” Jongin asks slowly, shaking his head.

Kyungsoo lets out an exhilarated laugh. “I forgot your suit. Baekhyun has it. So we gotta rush you to my quarters, and _then_ hurry down to the mess after I get everyone ready for jump. Food will probably be all gone by then, but I know a really good place on Maarten. You’ll like it.”

Tears well up in Jongin's eyes as he continues to speak. He shakes his head again, stepping backwards, back into the room. He takes a couple of shallow breaths, gathering himself. “Don't do this.”

Kyungsoo stops. “What?”

“Don't be foolish. I'm a liability. Your crew needs you. Go.”

He should have expected this fight. It’s a good argument, yes. It just doesn't matter. This is happening. “Come on,” he repeats. “He'll be after the ship whether you're on it or not. Let's go.”

“Don't—”

“Do you want to stay here?” Kyungsoo steps closer. “Be honest.”

“I-” Jongin purses his lips. “You're not listening to me.”

“You're not listening to _me_. Come on. We will figure something out. But if you keep dragging your feet, we'll _both_ be stranded here.”

Jongin stubbornly holds out for a few more tense seconds before finally, _finally_ relenting. It's a bit frantic, having to clear the short distance between them and the ship with Jongin so exposed, but aside from some curious looks, he suspects they didn't really linger long enough for it to affect anybody.

His crew, though, is another matter entirely. They may not say anything to his face, but the first person to catch sight of Jongin as they boarded immediately vanished to gossip to his friends. Kyungsoo's sure by the time he's gotten Jongin back to his quarters safely and to the bridge, that the entire ship already knows about their new travel plans.

Baekhyun has his Disapproving Face on. But this isn't up for debate. “To Maarten,” Kyungsoo orders, looking over the maps. The two stones clink together in his pocket. His skin crawls at the thought of holding onto them, but selling them doesn't sit that well with him either. He has plenty of time to think about it though, as the ship primes for making the temporal leap. For now, he has to see if there's anything left in the mess hall. Jongin's still a finicky eater.


	8. Epilogue

Saying goodbye hurts. Drawing it out only makes it worse too, but he just can't help himself. Even his crew is affected, so really, he can be allowed to grieve a little.

Jongin whispers something encouraging to him, but it doesn't quite filter through to his brain. This is still happening. It's for the best. For Jongin, for him, for the crew. For everyone. It doesn't make it hurt any less.

“My  _ baby _ ,” he mopes.

“The new one is better though,” Jongin offers pragmatically.

“You're heartless,” Kyungsoo says, frowning at him. So much for emotional support.

“I'm tired,” Jongin retorts, nudging a finger under the sash covering the jewels on his face to scratch at an itch. “I want to rest already.”

Reluctantly, Kyungsoo takes one last look at the once-Exoluxion disappearing into the atmosphere and sighs. He had to sell it. He had hoped to sell it. He didn't expect to be able to sell it so fucking easily. Apparently Class DO-12 ships are collectables, among the right, douchey hipster crowd. And Leeteuk managed to find him someone with way more money than sense, who was more than willing to part ways without even the slightest of background checks. Couple that with the king's ransom that they got for the two Kai stones, his new ship is a downright luxury liner. And totally not on any bounty hunter’s radar.

For now, anyway. They tend to find their way into unwanted attention. It's an occupational hazard.

“I need to name her,” Kyungsoo mutters, turning to look at the new ship. It should represent something nice and new. Like a temporary paradise or utopia that’ll carry them into an ideal future. Something hopeful. “I’m thinking Dick Magnet.”

Jongin smacks his arm.

“It’s romantic,” Kyungsoo snickers, stepping out of hitting range. “I’m naming it after you.”

“Eat shit.”

“ _ You _ name it then.”

Jongin squints at the ship as he contemplates the idea. They have managed a new system that allows for Jongin to actually be able to walk around and explore when they land somewhere, but it requires him to wear much heavier garments and mask his scent with more pungent smells, which doesn’t put him in the best of moods to begin with. Couple that with the new trend on some more affluent planets of wearing gemstones all over their faces and skin as decoration, he just finds it insulting. But the tension fades from his face as he looks at the lines of the ship. “How about Elyxion?”

“That sounds pretty.” He wants to press for an explanation, but Jongin will tell him when he’s ready. Or maybe he’ll get bored and bother Jongin about it later.

“It’s different enough, right?”

Kyungsoo nods. “I like it. Let’s go make it official.”

Mostly, the crew has adjusted to Jongin’s presence on board. They don’t really interact with him, and they’re definitely curious about their captain’s beautiful lover or smelly roommate or courtesan or whatever his role may be, but so far, have managed to keep their opinions, negative or otherwise, from reaching Kyungsoo’s ears.

Kyungsoo’s ears that Jongin now flips back, just as the door shuts behind them in their quarters, smirking as he does so. It’s his favorite thing.

“You know no one  _ dares _ to even touch my ears, right?” Kyungsoo sneers, scowling as Jongin tugs on his tail in response.

“Because you’re so big and scary, huh?” Another yank. “The baddest ball of fluff in all the universe.”

It feels too nice. He shoves Jongin back playfully. “Go rinse. You smell awful.”

Anything to keep from talking about the bigger issue. They will be nearing Kai’ta soon. Not directly, but close enough that it’d be unreasonable  _ not _ to drop in if Jongin were to, say, want to return to his home planet and his old life as a sexy priest or whatever.

“I was thinking-” Jongin says later, in bed, and Kyungsoo feels something heavy sink in his stomach. Here it comes. It’s not even a half-day’s voyage to reach Kai’ta by now. They’d be there by morning. That’s too soon. He had gotten comfortable in the past several weeks.

“Yeah?”

“I want to go to Kai’ta. I have things there I want to pick up.” Jongin chews on his bottom lip, eager for an answer. “Would you like to go see the temple with me?”

“To... live?” Kyungsoo asks dumbly.

“What?” Jongin furrows his brows. “No, I want more clothes.”

“You don’t want to go live there again?”

“Are you trying to kick me off the ship I sponsored?”

Kyungsoo clamps a hand over the Kai'taran’s mouth. “Stop,” he begs, hitting his forehead dramatically against the pillow. “Ergh. Nobody’s trying to kick you off. But I mean, you’re going home again. What if you want to stay?”

“Do you want me to?”

He gulps. “...No.”

It was a half-answer. It wasn’t really asking Jongin to stay here either.

“Then you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Jongin smiles, flipping his ears back again.

It’s a start, at least. He heaves a relieved sigh. They can figure out the rest later.


End file.
